


The Med-X Diaries

by ror_schach



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drug Abuse, Epilogue, Eventual Smut, F/M, Love Triangles, M/M, Multi, Non-Canon Relationship, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Break Up, Post-Game(s), Post-Post-Apocalyptic, Sobriety, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2019-09-04 23:59:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16799647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ror_schach/pseuds/ror_schach
Summary: Trees! Grass! Less raiders!6 years after the Railroad's victory, the Commonwealth is in bloom. Deacon hopes like hell Julien can live long enough to see the impact he's made, and maybe Cait is the push he needs.





	1. An Aftermath

****August 18, 2295** **

****Deacon.** **

“Wow…how did you find this place, Deacon?” Drummer Boy’s voice echoed behind me.

“I didn’t, he did,” I nodded to Julien, who walked beside me. Quiet as always. “I guess it was an old hangout of his before the bombs fell.”

“Nice. Are we taking it, then, Des?”

Desdemona stopped in her tracks and thought for a moment before speaking, “It could work.”

“I mean, we don’t really have anything to hide from,” I couldn’t believe after the Institute was gone we were still taking such drastic precautions. There was no point in tip toeing.

“It wouldn’t hurt to be out of view, Deacon,” she turned and crossed her arms. “Would _you_ like a raider ambush?”

Okay, fine. She had a point. But _everyone_ in the Commonwealth had that threat hanging over their heads. Besides, the number of raiders had dwindled over the past few years. Grass had started growing back, trees sprouted, commoners were beginning to read and write.

All of this could be traced back to Julien. After word caught on that he was responsible for eliminating what may have been the world’s greatest threat, folks started listening to the guy. After I finally convinced his stubborn ass to work with the Minutemen so the Railroad could join forces, the Commonwealth blossomed.

He opened a school at the Castle back in ‘89, one of the Minutemen’s old bases. Teachers were paid a salary and given a bed, the same went for farmers and doctors. A library was stocked in one of the wings. One farmer had his nose stuck in an old botany textbook for weeks before proposing a plan to “bring green back to the Commonwealth.”

I saw a living vine for the first time 3 years ago and couldn’t believe my eyes. It was otherwordly. I hoped I’d live long enough to see a forest. It wasn’t likely, my joints were starting to go and travelling wore me out.

Back on the subject, and to the point I was trying to make, times were a-changin’. Desdemona refused to believe that what had once been Massachusetts was any safer than it was 10 years ago.

“Once we clear out a few cobwebs, it should work just fine,” she ran the tips of her fingers over the concrete wall, inspecting it. “It should hold up. You said the electricity doesn’t work?”

“We fumbled around with the light switches and got nothing,” I replied.

“Tom?” she turned to our resident handyman, “Check for blown circuits.”

“On it,” he disappeared into the dark, lantern in hand.

“What exactly was this place, anyways?” she eyed Julien, or __Charmer,__ even though code names didn’t seem necessary anymore. “Someone invested in this.”

“It was, uh, a bomb shelter at one point,” he spoke up, “never got used. There was a toy factory above it at some point when I was a kid. Burned down. The shelter was for the general population, CEO funded it out of his own pocket and all. My grandpa worked at the factory. They sealed the entrance after the fire, but some buddies of mine found that nifty little passage we came in through. They forgot to seal the emergency exit, I guess.”

“Ah, so you’re probably not going to speak for a month now, right?” I chuckled, lightly elbowing him in the shoulder. The guy was reserved, but I couldn’t blame him.

“Shut up,” he teased back.

Desdemona nodded, probably considering what he had to say. After a moment of contemplating she instructed us all to get settled, two to a room.

And of course I chose to bunk with Julien. He sat his rucksack on a mattress that never saw use. I watched his jacket slide off of his arms. His muscles were taut beneath his olive skin. I blinked, realizing I was half gawking at the fella, and turned away to get settled myself.

“Deacon?” his body, toned and thin, draped across the mattress, perched on an elbow. He tilted his head, “Are you sure you can handle sleeping here?”

What the fuck did that even mean? He must have suspected something.

“Is it an issue?” once the glasses were off I knew what he was getting at. A dose of med-x rested in his hands. I bit back a sudden surge of anger and kept cool. “I see. As long as you’re not jabbing me with that, I have no qualms.” I could’ve fucking throttled him. Instead, I watched him find a vein, tie his arm, and inject the junk into his bloodstream. To be honest, it pained me. This guy was my closest friend. I watched him cry in the catacombs after failing to resuscitate Glory. I was there when he shipped his son off to the Capital Wasteland after realizing he wasn’t fit to raise him. I said nothing, but witnessed him absolutely lose his shit at his wife’s grave. None of that hurt like this did.

That shit was going to kill him. My stomach swallowed my heart.

He noticed that I was staring, “Hmm?” An eyebrow raised behind his toffee hair, which he’d neglected to cut for the past few years. My eyes shifted from the syringe to meet his gaze.

“I...sorry,” I didn’t have an explanation for him. He had handsome arms, veiny and sun-kissed. A thin frame all but hid adequate muscle mass. I’d seen him naked a few times and - _phew_ _ _.__

Hancock and some scrappy Irish girl had cannibalized that body years ago. Shit, I’d almost forgot about her.

Cait, that was her name. The day he discovered old HQ she’d stumbled alongside him. Desdemona wouldn’t let me live the fact that I’d vouched for a junkie down. I’d completed my homework, kept an eye on the guy once he’d escaped the vault. I knew his worth. I guess he wound up getting dumped after a solid 5 years of being his sidekick with benefits. Put effort into getting her clean, but kept using chems afterwards. Poor Cait dipped after realizing she couldn’t do the same for him.

No offense to him, but good for her.

His head slowly drooped, eyes rolling back. Good god it was pathetic to watch.

“So, are you just gonna pass out with that thing in your arm?” I went to his side and started cleaning up the spot. Julien didn’t respond or even move. Fucking lovely. “I’m about to sic the doctor on you.”

That woke him up.

“Nuh wait don’t do that,” his head tipped back and he swatted lazily at my hand.

“You need to get off this shit, buddy,” I sighed and untied his tourniquet. “It’s gonna kill ya.”

“I miss my wife.”

“I know.”

“Do you miss your wife?”

“Yeah. It gets a little easier, bud,” I lied. He must have known I was lying, too, because he glared when I said it. I wasn’t sure how else to ease his mind. It was the least I could do. I watched Julien go numb in the dim light and felt the smallest pang of worry. It did little to halt my curiosity. “Where did Cait ever wind up?”

“ _Idunno_ _ _,”__ he breathed. “She said…she said, I think she said she was gonna hang ‘round Goodneighbor? I’m gonna get her back, man.”

“Sure you are,” I sighed, only slightly sarcastic. Dude would probably slip through to the other side before sobering up enough to impress that one again. She was pretty headstrong and sick of his shit from what I heard. “Got a plan for that?”

“I just need to talk to her,” he lazily draped an arm across his forehead and huffed. “Stubborn little shit.”

“Hasn’t it been…”

“3 years.”

“And you’ve held out for that long?” Something told me I needed to play wingman and just get the poor guy _laid_ _ _.__ 3 years? Cait wouldn’t wait up on him for a week, much less 3 fucking years.

“She reminds me of Amber.”

“You mean Nora, right?” Who the fuck was Amber? An ex? His mom?

He chuckled and shook his head, “Nora was her middle name. Her name was Amber. Thought Nora sounded more professional so she had it changed. She only let me call her Amber.”

I was baffled that I’d missed that. 8 years and some change of trying to piece together every detail of the guy’s life and I’d somehow _missed_ that. It wasn’t a name you heard anymore, one that must’ve slipped the Commonwealth’s collective mind decades ago. I’d never met an Amber. I liked it, it was old-fashioned, one of a kind. Come to think of it, so was Julien. Didn’t meet a ton of those either.

“Your parents had taste,” I admitted. Too bad I’d never live long enough to see the world hopefully revert to what it once was, is that how it worked? The prospect of having another corrupt government was pretty bleak. At least I wouldn’t witness _that_ _ _.__ But to see the world as he once knew it, to have names like Amber and Julien again…

 _ _“I hope I started something,”__ Julien slurred. “I hope people realize what they have now.”

“Hmph. Have you met them?” I crossed my arms.

The man was out of his damn mind. He breathily mumbled some shit about the goddamn vox populi. I rolled my eyes. _Voice of the fucking people_ _ _.__ Yes, he gave the citizens of the Commonwealth many gifts, crafted a safer home for them, charmed them into bettering themselves…but he was no _vox populi_ _ _.__

He was cunning and devilishly handsome. A pretty boy with dreamy eyes and flowing hair. Typically, folks around here wouldn’t fall for it, they wouldn’t give a damn. But there was something about Julien that even I couldn’t help but fall for, admittedly. Now don’t quote me on that, I’m not sure if that’s a metaphor or not. Don’t get the wrong idea.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Yeah?” I yelled.

“Lights are on!” Tom yelled back. __Sweet.__ I thanked him and flicked a switch. Fluorescent light flooded the room. For the first time in weeks I got a real glimpse of his face: gaunt, zombified. He’d been flirting with death this entire time and just slipped it right past all of us.

“Jesus, dude,” I groaned. He was a fucking skeleton. Okay, so not the pretty boy I’d grown used to. “Are you auditioning for the grim reaper? You look like you’re dying.”

“And?” he was on the very brink of unconsciousness now, his voice shallow and almost inaudible. “Is over 200 years not long enough?”

I admit, it was selfish on my part. I didn’t want him to die because __I__ didn’t want him to die. Catch my drift?

I’d barely had a friend before Julien. There was Glory, but she came and went in the blink of an eye. That one still hurt after 6 years. I had Nick, I guess, but Nick didn’t have much time for little old me anymore. Being alone in a crowded room was a concept I’d grown familiar with.

I almost sold my soul to this man in hopes something worthwhile would come of it.

Our friendship was gratuitous. He didn’t need me standing in his way, but he let me come along for more than my fair share of the ride.

“Let’s take a trip,” he yawned. “Goodneighbor?”

“Sure buddy,” I rid the room of the harsh light and curled up on the mattress opposite his. “We can go track down your girlfriend if it makes you feel better.”

I shouldn’t have agreed to it, but maybe the poor guy needed a pick-me-up.

Good god. 

I didn’t sleep. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Instead I sat in what I imagined was once made to be a cafeteria and played cards with Drummer Boy. The kid didn’t age a bit.

“Any 7s?” he muttered.

“Go fuck yourself,” I chuckled, tossing cards onto the table.

“Big words for a ginger,” he raised an eyebrow, eyeing the small coif that I’d grown quite fond of. “You know, back in the old days they had __tons__ of myths about redheads. Jules said they were thought to be vampires or some shit.”

“Believe me, I know. When’s the last time you talked to Juli anyways?”

“Don’t see why it’s important. Also, ‘Juli’?”

“ _Intel_ , and mind your business.”

 _“Right._ _Intel._ The last time we actually sat down and had a conversation was a few days ago. I wanna say…Saturday?” he squinted, thinking back. “No, yeah it was Saturday. Why?”

“Did he seem incapacitated?”

“Elaborate.”

“High, Eli,” I used his birth name to let him know the situation had some real gravity to it.

“Ah. He was drinking. We all were, so I didn’t think much of it. Do I get a free pass to use your name?”

“Who’s in earshot?”

“Carrington.”

“ _Absolutely_ not.”

“Fine,” he reached into the cooler next to his foot and placed two beers on the table. “Are you partaking?”

“Yup,” I grabbed one and pried the cap off, tossing it to him. I knocked it back. It was bitter and tasted like rot. “Is this expired?”

He stared at me.

“ _Kidding_ ,” I grinned. Drummer Boy - _Eli_ _ _-__ smiled and shook his head, sipping his own beer.

“The good doctor skulked into his corner,” he muttered. “Let me say it. Just once. It’s hilariously ill-fitting.”

“Fine,” I grunted.

I wanted to rock his jaw when he said it, but I kept my cool.

“Back to what I was saying,” I sighed. “He just seemed… _drunk_ to you?”

“Yeah, but why are you asking? Is something going on?”

“I need to know if you’re peddling chems again. Don’t play dumb with me, child. If I find out you’re lying, you’ll be dealt with.”

Drummer Boy swallowed.

“I-I haven’t sold to Julien, he’s an agent, I couldn’t-”

“Cut the shit, you sold to Boxer. You sold to Cait. By extension, you’ve sold to him. You’re not a good liar, Eli.”

“I’ve never sold to him directly, Deeks. It was a one-time gig anyways. Lay off,” he stood and threw the chair. It made an awful clang against the wall as he stomped off.

Alright, I believed him. And I felt bad. But a warning was a warning.

I needed to get to the bottom of this. _Fast._


	2. Contact

**Julien.**

“Who is it and what the fuck do you want?” Cait’s voice sassed from beyond the door. She must have sucked up to Hancock to land a place in Goodneighbor. It didn’t seem to suit who she’d become, but she didn’t seem to have many options available when she moved out of my old apartment.

“It’s…Caesar.”

I thought maybe our age-old inside joke about my name - which she’d misheard upon meeting me, mistook it for “Julius” - would set a harmless tone.

And I was wrong.

The door swung open. My heart thumped behind its cage and I couldn’t help but smile when I saw her. As beautiful as the day she walked away. Freckles sprinkled her alabaster body. Her auburn hair was tossed into a lazy bun atop her head, baby hairs and tendrils framing her face. For the first time since we’d met, she wore a dress. A casual little powder blue number that hugged her waist and made my mind briefly drift back to the sundresses my late wife was once so fond of. Her face was adorably pissed-off, just how it used to look when I’d lovingly call her a leprechaun.

“I don’t have words for you, Julien. I suggest you hop the fuck off my stoop before I start swingin’.”

Precious.

“Not that it’s any of my business,” Deacon offered his mediation skills, “but if I remember correctly, the two of you didn’t leave on _hostile_ terms.”

He was correct. There was no fighting, no name-calling. All I remember is Cait catching me high as hell on a cocktail of jet and med-x, watching her die a little inside… After that I blacked out. Dogmeat - god rest his soul - had apparently spotted me in the bathtub and barked up a storm until Valentine kicked the door in, with Ellie close behind. Once the icy water hit me I snapped awake and demanded to know why she’d cranked the water on, it didn’t seem obvious at first. That was the first time I overdosed. I didn’t keep that apartment in Diamond City for much longer after that, it got lonely and Nick couldn’t babysit me every day. Deacon begged me to come back to HQ with the promise of assuming responsibility over the Commonwealth’s “last hope.”

Hmph. Some progress he’d made. They’d never learn.

 _"Besides,"_ Deacon smirked, “you’ve got nothing to worry about. We came to make peace.”

“Hm. So you’re saying he’s clean, yeah? None o’ that shite in his veins?” her arms folded. She was challenging us. Cait wanted the truth. I opened my mouth knowing full well that Deacon had habits of his own, yet he still beat me to the chase.

“As a whistle,” he lied. I wondered if I’d have to stop one ginger from pummeling the other as her brow creased.

“I take it he’s been donatin’ blood then? Didn’t know technology had come so far,” she nodded towards my arm, specifically the hole on the crook. “Yer still a liar and he’s still an addict. Not quite the company I try to keep anymore.”

“And _you're_ living in Goodneighbor. I’m not sure what other options you have,” Deacon sneered. There had to be something else on his mind, he’d been unpleasant and snippy the whole way.

She hesitated before stepping aside and rolling her eyes.

“Fine. But I don’t have all day.”

We entered her humble abode and settled into separate chairs, my nerves haywire as we waited. There was an uncomfortable silence once she sat down. It felt like it dragged on for ages, but realistically only lasted a few seconds. She pulled a ribbon from her hair, letting it fall and brushing her fingers through it. Holy hell, it was long. It hung just past her breasts, tricking my eyes into fixating on them for only a beat before she cleared her throat and called me out.

“Starin’ at my tits won’t help yer case,” she glared, tucking her hair behind her ears. “But I’ll let ya humor me.”

But what to say? Where to _begin?_ I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“Man, just come out and say it,” Deacon muttered. “You may as well rush in headlong.”

“Cait…” I began. No matter what I had to say, it would all hold the same merit to her. “I’m sorry.”

I opened my eyes. She was glaring at me, her posture stiff as a board. Headstrong as always, the whole trip may have been for naught.

“Yer _sorry?"_ she snorted. “Is that it, then? Are we done here?”

“No, Cait, I…I need you to listen,” I sat forward, bracing myself against the coffee table. “I helped you get clean, right?”

“Are you sayin’ you want me to do the same thing fer you? I wouldn’t know how.”

I didn’t want to get clean. That was the least of my problems.

“Does that not mean anything to you?” I asked.

If she’d only give me the time of day, I’d be satisfied. Anything more would make her a saint.

She sat on the words for a moment, her eyes falling to her lap. The anger in her face melted into something closer to sadness.

“If I let you back into my life,” she mumbled, her accent breaking as she carefully laid out the words, “I can’t be near that _shite_ _ _.__ And I don’t think I can trust you. I’d have to give you an ultimatum, Juli. Me or the drugs.”

“Damn, you’re willing to run back to him that fast?” Deacon scoffed. “This is a mess.”

“The only thing I’m putting on the table is friendship,” Cait shot him a look. “Don’t read into it.”

My heartbeat throbbed in my head. It was something. Perhaps I could bullshit my way back into her heart, go on long trips with Deacon and sneak a fix here and there. She wouldn’t have to know. She wouldn’t know at all, actually. I could never knowingly cause her distress. On my life, I had to make amends.

“That’s all I’m asking for, Cait.”

“And what if it doesn’t end pretty?”

“Then we walk away, okay?”

“Okay,” she sat back and bit her lip.

The room went quiet again. I was itching to tackle her to the ground and plant kisses all over her gorgeous little head, but I contained myself. No one seemed to know what to say, I sure as shit didn’t. I was prancing around on eggshells, too apprehensive to say what was really on my mind.

No time to think about it, I grew dizzy. The room tilted and I felt as if I’d drop to the floor. Time slowed. I braced my arms against the table and sharply inhaled.

When I opened my eyes, both of them were gawking at me. Their faces were stricken with concern and I was confused.

“What the fuck?” I muttered, sitting up. My hair felt like someone was tugging on it and I realized she’d tied it up while I was out. They both held rags, hers relatively dry, his sopping. My mouth felt like it was full of cotton. Both of them knew exactly what had happened. Deacon sat his rag aside and handed me a glass of water. Cait dabbed sweat from my forehead as I sipped it.

“Withdrawals are a bitch, huh?” she mumbled, softly. I snuck a peek at her face. She was calm, almost motherly. “Don’t worry, it’s not the first time. I used to just leave ya on the couch. You’d wake up and just assume you fell asleep.”

“We thought we’d lose you this time, buddy,” Deacon placed a hand on my knee and rubbed it. Up until then I hadn’t even noticed that they’d stripped me down, spreading a towel over my nether regions. I could bet that was Cait’s doing. I wouldn’t want to look at it if I were her, either.

“If you’d like a bath I can run one,” she offered. “One of us is gonna have to help you though. If you’re comfortable with it.”

She had no idea just how comfortable I was with the thought of either of them bathing me. Of course, I wasn’t about to verbalize just how rewarding withdrawals could apparently be. After Cait’s intervention, I’d had just enough energy to play nurse through her own withdrawals. I hated seeing her so weak, weaker than she’d been as an active junkie, but I’d never felt closer to her. Every night I’d hold her tight through the shakes, letting her cold sweats soak my clothes. I’d sneak away for a dose while she slept and return to find her in a trance. She’d ask where I’d gone, I’d tell her I had to use the bathroom or dipped outside for a cigarette.

She only felt safe in my arms. With my son missing and the shock of the world I’d stumbled into still rattling me from time to time, I had a purpose that I could fulfill with some amount of ease.

“Nose goes,” Deacon joked. Cait’s nose crinkled in amusement at that. Neither of them touched their noses. The hints just dropped themselves.

“That was pathetic,” I teased weakly. “Can I have a smoke?”

He stuck a cigarette between my lips and she lit it. Teamwork. Just like the good old days. I missed all of us hanging out together, even though my feelings for Deacon were far more platonic at the time.

“So pick your poison, then,” she wiped a damp hair from my brow. Her voice was mellow and as lovely as always. For a moment her hand gripped my wrist to steady herself, the warmth sending my heart overboard. I was home. She leaned back and took the hand away. I wanted to yank it back as if it’d been stolen.

“Tough call, huh?” he plucked the cigarette from my mouth and took a drag.

He was barely wrong. As tempting as it was to finally feel his hands on me, my mind was made. I was dead set on being alone with Cait. Nudity was a plus, even if it wasn’t reciprocated.

Maybe I _was_ losing my mind.

“I’m a little scared that this is a ploy to drown me but I think I’ll take Cait on for old time’s sake.”

“Ha! You owe me a Nuka and 10 caps,” she boasted, playfully pushing Deacon’s shoulder.

I was lost for a moment before it made sense: they took bets on it.

“Trick question,” Deacon grinned, giving me another hit off of the cigarette before offering it to her. “This is a team effort.”

Oh god.

Upon standing up, I understood. My body was gelatin. Each of them took an arm over their shoulders and lugged me to the bathroom. Cait ran hot water while Deacon lowered me in. It would’ve been embarrassing had it not been for all the times I’d done the same for her.

I rolled my shoulders and sank.

“Don’t pass out,” she turned the knob, shutting the water off. “Better?”

“Yeah,” I breathed. “Thank you.”

I closed my eyes and felt my hair come loose, falling over my shoulders. Skilled fingers massaged my scalp and I couldn’t help but smile. I missed her touch.

“It’s grown quite a bit since the last time you saw it,” I sighed. “I was going to cut it, but I thought maybe you’d like the loose curls.”

“I can see that,” she giggled. My eyes flew open when I realized her voice was coming from the opposite side of the tub.

Deacon lost it. The magic fingers belonged to him.

“So are we fighting over who gets to give you a rub-down?” he asked.

“You go right ahead, Deeks,” she rolled her eyes and dug a towel out of a small crate. “Enjoy it. Holler when you need me again.”

Cait left the two of us alone. Not in the least what I’d desired but I’d take it. Deacon didn’t seem to mind the task. I’d go as far as saying he enjoyed it, I didn’t need him to take his time and he knew this. This wasn’t his first time pulling me out of a withdrawal either.

We were both silent. It wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable from where I sat. It was serene, the kind of moment that lights a candle in your chest and makes your palms tingle with only the littlest tinge of titillation.

It was the tipping point; it was the point where I had to take a mental step back and accept that I’d been burying my attraction to him since we met.

He pulled the plug and leaned out the door to yell for Cait. They carefully dragged me out of the tub and wrapped me up. At that point, I was capable, but I was enjoying this. Neither of them complained.

She left us alone again while she disappeared to search for something of hers I’d fit. Being a tall man of over six feet, I doubted she had anything at all.

“Something’s up,” Deacon muttered.

I took a seat and let him dry my hair with a separate towel. Everyone loved playing with my hair, he’d grown fond of finding excuses to touch it.

“And what is that?” I baited with a heavy sigh.

 _ _"Feelings,"__ he spoke so low I barely heard it.

“I don’t know what those are,” I teased.

With that my head was yanked backwards, by my hair, so our eyes met for only a split second. Deacon’s breathing was so intense it could’ve echoed in the bedroom. His hand clenched the nape of my neck. It happened so quickly.

In short, he kissed me. But…I expected it. I didn’t see it as necessarily being in the realm of possibilities, but it was one of those things I hoped for hard that surely it had to happen. The law of attraction had to mean something.

The great, all-powerful “thing” neither of us had cared to acknowledge until now took its rightful place center stage.

The cat in the box had been both dead and alive, and neither of the two all at once. Maybe the cat was alive after all. The cat of course, being the nexus between the two of us.

Physically, it was simply a kiss. A hard, rigid kiss that eventually relaxed into something much more gentle and heartfelt. It was only a kiss until his hand discovered my throat and braced me against the chair.

He had orchestrated a heated, sexually frustrated power move that would’ve frightened anyone else. His fingers curled tightly around my neck as his lips parted mine and he plunged deeper into the kiss.

This was a man who knew exactly what the fuck he was doing. He was trying to prove something he didn’t need to prove at all. I forgot the room even existed. I forgot why we were there.

Whatever I’d felt in the bathtub, I guess he felt it too.

He pulled away and grinned.

“Weren’t we here for Cait?” he reminded me. “I hear footsteps.”

Why did he have to say it out loud? In my head, I didn’t have to pick one. And boy, if they were going to make me choose...I wasn’t sure how it’d play out. Not well, though.

Cait came rushing in with the promised clothing (which I immediately recognized as my own from years ago, amazed she’d hung on to them for so long) and…an envelope?

“Juli, I’m so sorry,” she apologized profusely and offered the clothing. I took it and eagerly pulled on the old tunic and jeans.

“See your reflection again?” Deacon teased.

“Fuck off,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry. I forgot about this.”

She extended the hand that held the envelope. I already knew what it was before opening it.

“I’ve been getting mine,” I stared at it. Maybe there was a mix-up and some courier thought she still traveled with me. “I can’t imagine a reason he’d send this to you with your name on it if it wasn’t yours. Cait, I think this was meant for you.”

She snatched it back and scratched her head.

“I…can’t think of _why_ he’d write me of all people,” she opened it. Her eyebrows raised and she looked at Deacon first, then me. Something peaked her excitement and apparently I wasn’t allowed to know what it was. “No, wait, this makes sense.”

She wiggled around me and whispered something to him.

“No way,” Deacon gasped. I rolled my eyes at the schoolgirl banter happening behind me.

“He’s not even my son and he makes me __so__ proud,” she boasted.

Great! This could mean Shaun either cured cancer or blew up Megaton. But if he accomplished something so huge, why wouldn’t he tell me first?

“Wait, does it say why I’m not supposed to be in on this big secret?” I prodded.

“No, I just think he should tell you himself,” she shrugged.

“He’s coming _here? How?"_ the thought of seeing my boy again trumped everything else.

“That’s part of the surprise,” Deacon leaned in with his hands on my shoulders. “But let’s just say, your son is 10 steps ahead of the rest of us and you’re going to love it. Fuck, I miss that little shit.”

“He’s such a good kid,” Cait nodded. “This just goes to show how sharp he is. How long’s it been since he’s visited, Juli?”

“I haven’t seen him in about 3 years but he writes every other month. I wish he had a working camera,” I grunted. “With his brains, I’m astounded that he doesn’t.”

“Oh come on, pops,” he chuckled, “you should be proud of the kid regardless of what he looks like.”

“I just wanna see his face. He looked exactly like my wife last time he came this way.”

“You will in a week,” she reassured me. “Help me get this dump tidied up. Stay if you need. If you behave you’re welcome here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t get visitors anyways,” she shrugged. Poor Cait. I should’ve came back ages ago. “Strange coincidence that he’d write me right when you come back around.”

It was strange, indeed. But it didn’t matter. What mattered was that in a week, we’d all be under the same roof. We were just missing Dogmeat, but the mutt died an honorable death and lived a good life. I was still reeling from the loss of that damn dog.

“I have a guest room he can use,” she offered. “My room mate kind of fell off the face o’ the earth a few months back.”

“So where does that leave us?” Deacon asked.

“Oh, I figure I’d be kind enough to share my bed,” she winked. “But piss me off _once_ and you can take up the cellar.”

I couldn’t see his face, but I’m sure we both dropped our jaws in unison. Our reactions amused the hell out of Cait. She laughed and shook her head before telling us to make ourselves at home in her room.

Wait…she was _serious?_


	3. My Love Has Concrete Feet

****Cait.** **

It was stupid of me to let those two into my house, I wagered. From the kitchen, I could peer down the hall and into the bedroom where they slept. Naked. On _my_ bed. Some attempt to win me back this was. I couldn’t stop trying to calculate whether or not they were a couple, I mean, who the hell just snoozes naked with a friend? I hadn’t taken my eyes off of them since they hit the hay. I would’ve noticed if they were touching each other. How strange, the two of them. I sat clutching my coffee, waiting for Julien to wander down the hall and question me about my sweater. It was his, after all. I stole it when I left him in that bathtub, unlike the tunic and pants he wore for all of an hour last night. When I left I’d forgotten they were in the bottom of my bag. I’d like to say I don’t know why I kept them, but Deacon was the liar here, not I.

Truthfully I never wanted to leave, but I didn’t feel like I had a choice. It’d taken so long to get clean. Eliminating temptation was a step in the right direction. I thought maybe it’d be a wake up call for him. Maybe Nick or Deacon would slap him in the face one of these days and force him to get himself together. He wasn’t their responsibility, though, and I knew this. I just hoped…maybe they’d grant us a miracle and we’d be reunited when the time was right.

Deacon cared deeply. Earlier that night we’d sat on the bed, taking turns wiping sweat from his brow and checking his pulse. I drank for the first time in probably a year. Not enough to get wasted, but a shot or two couldn’t hurt. The second Juli conked out I went off the deep end, throwing an absolute fit he couldn’t possibly hear. Hence the drinking, Deacon’s offer.

I’d asked him if Juli had tried to get clean at all while we sat. He offered me a cigarette and confirmed my fears. Apparently he’d done a good job at hiding it for a bit, but trusted Deeks enough to dose right in front of him.

I wished I could fall right back into his arms and melt into him. The logical part of me said to give him until Shaun leaves and then request to be left alone. Don’t touch him unless it’s an emergency, don’t so much as hint at the feelings that lingered.

The boy’s letter was heavy in my pocket. I wasn’t keeping Julien around for the week for his own sake. I loved his son as my own. I could never tell the man that his son had visited me months ago and neglected to go see his father, but who could blame him? Shaun was terrified to see his father strung out.

What a fucking disaster.

I stirred the spoon around in my coffee and stared at it, bored and tired of keeping watch. Maybe offering to share a bed with them was a mistake but I figured I’d get laid. Now I wasn’t so sure I’d want any part of that anyways. Considering the possibility made me a little sick, to be honest.

I could only be distracted by the joe in my mug for so long. Footsteps caught my attention. Deacon. God, he looked so different now. Older. A tad on the pudgy side. I couldn’t help but smile at that. I could see why Julien snuggled right up to him. There was no light on where I sat, but I had the perfect view of him. Fuckers hadn’t turned the lights off before crawling into bed, much to my advantage. The bathroom light came on and the door shut behind him.

His humming caught me off guard and I had to cover my mouth to stifle a giggle. Cute. Must’ve picked that habit up from Jules. Speak of the devil, I heard that sleep-mumbling I’d grown so fond of and sighed. Way back when, I would’ve been nestled beside him, whispering in response to it and testing if he’d give a coherent answer. Every once in a great while he’d reply to questions with silly responses or wake up when he heard me speak. A few times I laughed and admitted to fucking with him. He never stayed awake for long, always snuggling back up to me halfway through my sentence and dozing. Did he still grind his teeth? Did he still groan every time he tossed and turned? Strange man. A heavy sleeper despite all of these adorably annoying little quirks.

I shook my head and blinked, forcing myself to focus. Getting too involved again would only result in a broken heart or a relapse. If he would’ve just stayed away I wouldn’t have this issue. Yeah it got sad and lonely around here and _of course_ he haunted me, but I’d survived this long without him and I could’ve kept going. There was so much to discuss, so much to sort, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for it yet. If he wound up whisked away in Deacon’s arms I’d be happy for both of them. They both deserved to be loved, and he had a much better chance of getting Julien the help he needed than I did. Deacon also had the patience, and could stomach it. The threat of relapse didn’t hang over his head as it did mine. I could spend decades away from chems and the minute they were laid in front of me I didn’t trust myself enough to say no. Better to be safe than sorry.

The bathroom door opening interrupted my thoughts and I was caught. Deacon smiled in my direction - maybe the kitchen wasn’t as dark as I thought. I returned it and prayed he’d go straight back to the bed. Unfortunately he crept right into my space, towel around his hips, and took a seat across from me.

“How come you never sleep?” he took my lighter and sparked a cigarette. “I’ve known you for years and I’ve always had this sneaking suspicion that you’re a vampire or something.”

“Or something,” I mumbled, refusing to look at him. Best to try not to think about _anything_ involving those two right now. But I had questions that I wouldn’t dare ask in the same room as Julien. “Deacon, is he gonna be alright?”

He pondered for a moment and shrugged.

“I can’t promise anything,” he sighed. “But I know one thing for sure. Can you trust me just this one time?”

“Whatever it is, just lay it on me,” I peeked up at him.

“He loves the absolute _shite_ out of you.”

He sounded broken when he said it, like he couldn’t handle the thought. The little joke wasn’t even funny, it was just _sad_ _ _.__ Depressing even.

“Why do you say that like you don’t mean it? If I’m supposed to trust you just this one time why does it sound like a blatant lie?”

“I should just come out and say it, shouldn’t I?” he coughed. “Julien loves you. Julien may or may not love me, too. I…know it sounds insane but I’ve been picking up hints for years now. I kissed him to see how he’d react and he…reacted. Look, this is going to sound so stupid but I think we could put his feelings to use.”

It did sound pretty fucking stupid, but he had my curiosity.

“Go on,” I muttered.

He paused, holding his breath. I could tell he had an idea of what he wanted to say. Putting the words together was probably a challenge.

“If we want Julien to get clean and recover, we might have to drag him kicking and screaming to vault 95.”

He stared at me, awaiting my response. Last place I wanted to wind up was in that shithole again.

“What does this have to do with _his_ feelings?” I asked. “I’m not quite understandin’ that. Are _you_ okay?”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

“No. I…”

“You love him, too.”

“In a way, yeah-”

“Bollocks,” I snorted. I let the accent make an appearance. Over the years I began blending in with the drifters but I couldn’t always contain it. “Both ye fancy each other. I ain’t thick.”

“Cait…”

“Come on, why can’t ya just fess up?” I stood, arms thrashing about as I spoke. “He loves _me_ _ _,__ he loves _you_ _ _,__ Deeks I reckon he loves just about anybody that’ll look him in the eyes at this point! I mean…if he’s crossing the Commonwealth to get me back but swallowin’ yer spit in the same breath, what’s he expect to come of it?”

Crickets. Deacon really didn’t have a plan, huh?

“Out with it then, come on, _speak!_ _ _”__ My palms hit the table and I leaned in, as if to interrogate him. “Ya interrupt my private time with some bollocks, then?”

“Cait, I know you’re stressed about this..”

“ _Stressed?_ Stressed! Yes, of course, _stressed_ _ _,__ that’s a good word for sick to my fuckin’ stomach thinkin’ about my junkie ex using my bed while his boyfriend spews absolute nonsense in my kitchen at 2 in the fuckin’ mornin’! He’s not my responsibility, I…”

He was on his feet. Those promiscuous lips pressed against my mouth before I could finish spitting my stream of consciousness at him. My entire body went rigid, frozen. His hands grabbed my bicep and my reflexes kicked in.

A solid right hook to the jaw sent him stumbling backwards. His back smacked against the wall and he cupped his jaw, eyes wide. We’d known each other for 8 years, he knew what happened when strange men kissed me out of the blue.

“Why did you do that…” I hissed.

“I…I don’t know,” he mumbled. “It just felt like the right thing to do.”

“How the _fuck_ did you deduce that?” I stared at him, baffled over what had just transpired.

Our eyes stayed locked and unblinking for an uncomfortable amount of time and he said nothing. He only shrugged. I’d never seen him make that face, the one where he looked like a puppy that had just been kicked and like he’d just seen a ghost all at once. Must’ve taken me for a fool.

“I’m sorry I hit you but you can’t… _do that,"_ I approached him, delicately taking his hand and inspecting the spot. “You’re in luck, it’s gonna bruise but you get to keep your teeth.”

“I’m sorry I kissed you,” he mumbled, still rattled having been struck.

“Are you gonna tell me why you did it?”

“I already told you why.”

We both went quiet for a second, averting our eyes, before I spoke.

“An impulse?”

“I think so.”

More silence as I considered it. Maybe, just _maybe_ if he would’ve been kind enough to ask my permission, the kiss would’ve been returned. Fuck, now I was curious.

“Do it again,” I looked at him.

“What?”

“Kiss me, dipshit.”

He wasted no time. Our mouths joined and danced as I crossed my wrists behind his neck. I lost myself. One would assume that in 3 years I would’ve been laid at least once, but this was the most intimate contact I’d endured since the last night I spent with Julien.

With the added consent it almost felt right, but... I pulled away, realizing that this was _Deacon_ and it was wrong. But fuck, he was good, and fusing to a warm body felt like heaven after years of isolation. Could I afford to harbor feelings for another man? It couldn’t come to that.

Julien loved us both, of course, but would we come full circle? This was a terrible, awful, horrible, no-good dirty train of thought. Someone would wind up hurt in all of this if we allowed it to become more than a friendship. And I suspected Deacon only made a move in the first place to win my heart over so I’d follow through with his plans.

Our eyes locked. He looked…hurt. Tired. I didn’t need to ask why. He was familiar and I was aware of the evil things that ate at him. We knew each others histories. What Julien was laying on him was just the icing on the cake. It was mutual.

I sighed and turned back to my coffee, cradling the mug in my palms. He was asking a lot of me by requesting I lead back to that god forsaken vault but the situation was hopeless without it.

“Fine. I’ll go to the vault with you. Does he have that pipboy still?”

“It’s in my bag.”

“You’ll need it. Let’s go.”

We crept down the hall and back into my bedroom. Julien was awake, his jeans on, lounging on the bed. I didn’t need to see the empty canister of jet in his pocket to know he was high. He grinned when he saw us and extended his arms. A hug was tempting, but I wasn’t going to let my guard down so easily.

“No love, huh?” he sat up and flipped his hair.

“Not today,” I rolled my eyes and scooted up next to him as his arms dropped into his lap. I had no choice, the mattress was only a full-size. Our knees touched and I quickly jerked away. He pouted.

Deacon dug for the pipboy and huffed.

“It’s not here.”

“What isn’t?” Julien peered over his shoulder at him.

“Your pipboy.”

“It’s at HQ. Why?”

“I need it.”

Julien prodded, trying to figure out what he needed the contraption for. Deacon finally shook his head and stood up.

“I’m going back to HQ. I should be back in a day. Cait, if he gets out of hand, take him to the Rex. Here’s 30 caps.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind? I’m not his nanny,” I was taken aback. Being alone with him for a whole day was risky.

“I have matters to settle and we’re without a paddle without that pipboy,” Deacon shrugged.

“Why didn’t you just settle your matters before you came here?”

“Whoa, hold on,” Julien chimed in, “I’m a grown man. I think I can handle choosing whether I stay or go.”

Deacon and I exchanged a look and he shrugged.

“Fair, I guess. Are you staying or going, then?” I raised an eyebrow. I already knew what his answer would be and I wasn’t too thrilled.

He pondered a moment and finally took my hand. I felt my face twist and yanked it away. The audacity.

“I’ll stay here if Cait’s comfortable with it,” he looked at Deacon. “But I think she deserves some sort of say in whether she hosts me or not.”  
”It’s only a day,” I grumbled. “But if you act out of line it’s straight to the Rex. Do I make myself clear?”

“As day, miss,” he fucking _winked_ when he said it. If I weren’t so frustrated it would’ve made me quake. This was going to be a disaster.

Deacon huffed.

“Why did you even…you know what? Never mind. I’ll be back around 7 tomorrow.”

“In the morning?” I had to admit, his concept of time and distance was pretty impressive. Considering he was a spy, it didn’t really come as a surprise, however.

“Yep. Hopefully the two of you will have a chance to talk,” he slung a rucksack over his shoulders and snatched his pistol off the nightstand. “Watch out for each other while I’m gone.”

He quickly dressed, kissed Julien’s cheek before disappearing out the door. I watched his face turn red.

“He…I…”

“Just a friendly thing, isn’t it?” I half-mocked him.

“Yes,” he nodded and brushed his hair behind his ears. He stared into his lap. “He’s a goofball.”

“I know. I remember Deacon,” I smiled a little.

We were quiet again. Alone. I swore my pulse could be heard from space. Neither of us wanted to go first, but he spoke, his voice hushed.

“I’m sorry, Cait,” he looked at me again, his wavy brown hair falling over his chest. “I know…you want nothing to do with me. And I know that you know why I’m here.”

I blinked, unsure how to respond. Instead I sipped my lukewarm coffee and averted my eyes. He picked up on it, just like he used to.

“I understand that I’m not gonna get what I want,” I felt a hand on my knee and glanced up at him. “But…for what it’s worth, I’m here.”

“Julien,” I began, “I’d love to have you by my side again. But I can’t risk my life. I can’t let myself relapse. You’re just not a good influence, and you have no regard for your own stability.”

“I understand.”

I let him take my hand and fidget with it.

“I can go if you want. Right now. I can leave, Cait. I don’t want to weigh on you.”

“If you’d just get clean you’d be light as a feather.”

No response, only a guilt-ridden look on his face. Tears wet the corners of my eyes and I failed hiding them, dabbing at my cheeks with the sleeve of my sweater. _His_ sweater. He didn’t even seem to notice what I was wearing, anyways. Julien wrapped his arms around my shoulders and brought me to an embrace. I wanted to fight it, push him off the bed and run away. Instead I snuggled my head into his chest and sobbed. I wept with a vengeance, hideous noises escaping and all. He silently cradled my body and pressed his chin to the top of my head. His fingers stroked through my hair and he said nothing. A hint of sunshine bled in through the curtains. Drifters cursed each other below the window. Ever since Goodneighbor expanded, there was little quiet time.

I leaned back and stared up at him. This was a mistake, it was reckless of me to give myself up like this but there wasn’t much I could do to stop myself.

“You have to get clean,” I sniffled. “Not for me or for Shaun or for Deacon or the good of the world, for yourself. You deserve to live and see what you’ve done with the world. You have to make a choice to stay alive.”

No amount of insisting he should live could convince him. Julien was so far gone that I wasn’t even sure if hauling him to vault 95’s clean room would do the trick. It may have just been too late. At least…that’s what I assumed.

“If you can get me to the vault, I’ll go through with it.”

“Do you mean it? You can’t just say things like that and not mean them. You __have__ to mean it.”

“I mean it. And if I get clean, what does what mean for us?”

I thought of Deacon. Where exactly did he fit in the equation? I wasn’t ignorant. He loved Deacon every bit as much as he loved me. Eventually he’d have to make a choice and someone would wind up hurt, chems or no chems. I gave up. There was no use fighting it anymore.

“It means…we give it one shot. One chance is all I can give,” I laced my fingers with his and studied them. Bony and…pale. He was ill. Just like I had been when he came into my life. A cloud of dread settled over my thoughts. Here he thought he’d have to win me back, find a way to make me fall for him again. Resistance was fucking futile.

I’d never stopped loving the man, and I couldn’t. After everything we’d been through…

“And what if it doesn’t work out?” his dilated pupils danced across my face.

“Then it doesn’t work out. We learn this time.”

Julien nodded and cupped the back of my head, pulling me in. His lips were warm on my forehead. I felt my heart swell in my chest.

I was home, if only for a little while. I could make room for delusion if the loneliness would subside.


	4. Relentless Discomposure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!!! The only reason this has been updated so frequently is because I haven't been sleeping. This will probably be updated weekly or bi-weekly with longer chapters from here on out

****Deacon.** **

Fuck, it was cold.

The wind nipped at my cheeks as I hurriedly snuck across the Commonwealth, in no mood to tango with hostiles. I’d been on the road for 4 hours already. New HQ was generous in terms of space and seclusion, but being located all the way in bumfuck nowhere made travelling to Boston a bitch and a half. At least the bridges were repaired, to an extent. The sudden temperature drop made my balls all but shrivel up. For a second I feared that they’d fall right the fuck off. Fuck. Fuck fuck _fuck_ I was a walking icicle _ _.__

I was in no mood for confrontation, but I knew what had to go down the minute I found that little shit. Eli was going to tell me the truth or it would be his funeral. First med-x and now jet? Fucking _jet?_ I at least had a clear understanding of the first chem Julien had started pounding into his bloodstream, he and opiates went way way back.

I’m talking, before the vault. Before his son was born. That far back.

He confided in me shortly after we had a heart-to-heart about my old lady. He’d let me ramble on about my Barbara and how much missing her nearly sucked the life out of me. That was on Christmas Eve at old HQ, a month after he’d waltzed out of the vault. (Strangely enough he came straight to us with a loaded plan to put one of our greatest enemies, Conrad Kellogg, to rest. I was amazed that he found us, but he’d wandered around Diamond City with a holotape he’d found in the Dugout Inn. A certain merchant decided he was trustworthy after witnessing him kick it with Valentine and hinted at where to find us. Thankfully I’d done my homework on the guy so I knew what I was talking about when I told Des to take him on. __“A pre-war army fella. If he can’t serve as my personal assistant, send him to work with Glory. One heavy is impractical, don’tcha think? I probably should’ve told you all this when he waltzed into the catacombs but I didn’t wanna scare the poor sod.”__ )

We’d been drinking and he lamented about not having spent the holiday with his wife and son, and I chimed in. Lovers die. Perhaps in the old world folks had a realistic chance of their spouses coming home every day, but somewhere on the timeline, while he was still in cryo-sleep, my fate decided it was matching t-shirt day with his. It wasn’t uncommon to just accept that one day your lover would be whisked away in the arms of untimely death in the world I grew up in, but Barbara’s demise was…unique. We’d chatted for hours, slamming beer after beer, oblivious to the eyerolling that ensued around us. Later Des would tell me that we’d been obnoxious and I’d wound up sobbing into Glory’s chest when Julien finally passed out…on Carrington’s bed, with Cait spooning him. I refused to admit it, but it was cute in a fucked up kind of way.

Before he passed tipsy and decided that the doc’s beat-up mattress was a good place to lay his head, he briefly snuck into the shooting range with Cait. I thought they were fixing to get frisky, but after snooping I found them dosing in the shadows. If I’m not mistaken that was the first time she’d traded her drug of choice for an opiate, he insisted she give it a whirl.

I peeked my head in and casually plopped down next to him, inquiring about just what the fuck they were doing. I warned them that if Des caught them, there would be hell to pay…probably. They wouldn’t be the first junkies to join the organization, but it wasn’t taken too kindly.

“It uh…helps with my eye,” he half-smiled, perfectly preserved pre-war teeth flashing and all. I noticed he had dimples for the first time. He was _young,_ too. So was she. Made me feel like the ancient artifact.

“Your eye?” I raised an eyebrow. That’s when I noticed the scar over his left eye. It ran from his forehead, through his eye (ouch), and down his cheek. I couldn’t believe I’d missed it, either, seeing as how prominent it was. “Can you see out of it?”

“Uh…yeah,” he chuckled shyly. This probably wasn’t a very easy subject to talk about. “It’s cloudy, but it’s not obsolete yet.”

Apparently he’d leaped to protect a civilian child from a mine during his time in the army, a chunk of shrapnel caught the left side of his face. His face had almost split wide open and doctors worked for hours to stabilize him and save the eye. He spent months with half his face covered, and had only harnessed enough confidence to take the eye patch off the day of the Great War. His wife had begged him to let her see. A close enough look revealed that his iris and pupil seemed to melt together, distorted by the scarring.

Shit hurt like a bitch. Med-x was his best friend during the operation that saved his life and for months after, even when he was no longer prescribed it for the pain. Apparently he’d put it down for a while, but upon learning that it was still abundant in the new world, he said fuck it and started shooting up for shits n’ gigs.Or, as he put it, “coping.”

Drummer Boy, once a nice kid with his head on straight, decided he needed caps more than he needed friends 3 years later and flipped some chems. Supposedly he’d only done it once, under pressure when he was desperate for money. I didn’t buy it.

We had an agent named Boxer. Real sweetheart, that one. Didn’t show up at HQ often. Soft spoken with sunken eyes. He sold part of that batch to her, I watched it go down from around the corner, neither of them wise to the fact that I was snooping.

She died a week later. Overdose. I should’ve ripped him to shreds after the first time he sold, I don’t know why I didn’t.

I withdrew a cigarette and pulled my scarf down to light it. Shit was stale. The first drag sent me into a coughing fit. I covered my mouth so the sound was muffled, I couldn’t attract a deathclaw right now. Nope.

It was encroaching 9 o’clock by the time I finally reached the tunnel. A hefty, rusted manhole cover hid the passage. I scooted it aside and eased onto the ladder, sliding it back into place. It was too damn dark. I flicked on my lighter and used it to guide myself towards the door.

Two agents sat in the common area: the last recruit, Genesis, and my target. Drummer Boy.

I had no use or time for beating around the bush. His face washed with white when he spotted me. The little fucker pretended not to notice and tried to dip.

“Nuh-uh, you little shit!” I barked, sprinting after him. I chased him down the main corridor and down the stairs, cornering him in a barely-lit locker room.

I took seized the collar of his jacket and shoved his back against the wall, staring daggers at him.

“You know what the fuck I have to say to you, don’t you?” I absorbed his fear like a sponge, damn near feeding off of it. I could feel his pulse pounding in his neck. Good. I needed him afraid. That was the only way I’d get him to talk.

He stared back, his irises comically tiny as his eyes widened. Beads of sweat were already forming at his hairline. I almost hated having to be so cruel to the kid, he used to be one of the best folks in this organization.

His hands twitched anxiously against the cold concrete, as if he were feeling for a trap door or something to help him break loose. He actually thought he’d be safe enough at HQ to not keep so much as a switchblade on hand.

That was fine. I brought mine anyways, and my pistol. We had options. I weighed them for a moment before landing on the pistol. The cold muzzle pressed into his chin, I wiggled it around a bit to give him a real feel for it. Let him try it on. He clamped his eyes shut and swallowed, the coward.

“You’re going to lead me back to your room,” I disabled the safety and breathed in the little squeak that escaped his throat. “You’re going to provethat you’re not supplying him. If you can’t prove it, I’m going to assume the worst. Deal?”

“Fine,” he grunted, “you can search the room. But Tom’s sleeping.”

I removed the gun from his chin and shot the lightbulbs above.

“That’s fine. We can wake him up. The bathroom lights need replaced anyways,” I let go of his shirt and nodded towards the exit, where light just barely flooded in. “Lead.”

Eli took a deep breath and nodded anxiously. I followed him down the corridor and to his room. His forehead was visibly damp with sweat. He slid the door open and flicked a switch.

“H-hey Tom,” he muttered. I leaned in on the doorframe, flashing a movie star grin and concealing the gun behind my thigh as Tinker peeked up at us.

“Need something?” he muttered, monotone. He sat up and rubbed his eyes before tossing his legs over the side of the bed. No one ever woke Tinker Tom unless something needed patched up.

“Hey, pal! Light’s out in the water closet, no one can go do their duty,” I waved at him with my free hand.

“Hey, Deeks,” he stretched and grabbed his toolkit. “I’m on it. Good to see you back.”

“Back atcha,” I gave him the ol’ finger gun and winked. He half-assed returned the gesture and skulked off towards the communal restroom. I turned to Drummer Boy and raised an eyebrow.

I poked the small of his back with the gun and urged him to move. He quietly took the hint. I closed the door.

“You’re free to dig through my belongings whenever,” he mumbled. I nodded and rummaged through his side of the room, meticulously checking every nook and cranny for any kind of dope. I searched bags, a footlocker, boxes, everything. Frantically. I had to know.

Nothing. Fucking nothing.

I stood and turned to the kid, staring at him in disbelief. He bit his lip and huffed.

“I told the truth,” he crossed his arms and raised a brow. “But let me guess…you don’t believe me and I should say my last words or something. Right?”

“No,” I scratched my head and shook the bewildered look from my face. “Sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be. Seriously. What I did was fucked up and cost us Boxer. I can understand why you’d suspect me first.”

“I threatened to kill you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You _don't_ mind that?”

“I don’t _blame_ you, Deacon.”

“Oh. Well. For what it’s worth, I overreacted, still. And I really am sorry,” I strode to the door frame where he stood and placed a forgiving hand on his shoulder. “You’re a dumb kid that made a mistake years ago. Just don’t make the same mistake twice or I _will_ beat your ass.”

__"'Dumb'?"_ _

I gave his shoulder a friendly thump and made my way towards my own room, concealing the weapon again. Amazing, no one had even sifted through our belongings. Julien and I had quite the collection: caps, weapons, comics, technical documents, chems, porno magazines, ammo… That wasn’t even half of it. Julien’s primary residence was the Castle’s old armory. He liked sleeping underground, away from people. Said he could actually sleep with both eyes shut. We stashed most of our bullshit in crates and lockers over there. If the nosy shitheads at HQ really wanted, they could’ve made themselves rich on our bounty. Good to see they were still worth a shit.

I dug around for the pipboy and found it in the damnedest place: buried in a pile of underwear in his locker. Of course.

Halfway out the door something caught my eye. I did a double take and turned around, inspecting it. A trash can. I mean, the trash can itself wasn’t a surprise, each room had come equipped with 2. It was full of rags, threadbare hand towels, torn clothes… My curious hands cautiously dug a few out and unfolded them. Each one was stained with dried blood. Anyone else’s bodily fluids would have me on the verge of gagging, but Julien was…close. I spread the rags out and studied the patterns, thinking maybe he’d used them to blot at fresh track marks, which wouldn’t have been a slap in the face.

Years in the field and reading pre-war books on pretty much any and every subject taught me how to recognize different types of blood splatters, whether or not it was a necessary skill to pick up. These were certainly splatters, though small.

Tiny specks of brown-red dotted the cloth and it clicked: he was coughing blood. _What in fresh hell?_

I did the math in my head. We had roughly 5 days until Shaun showed up at Cait’s door. It would take an entire day, possibly longer, to walk to vault 95 from Goodneighbor. We had time, and if we didn’t time would have to be made. Cait would likely argue that Shaun might show up early, as he did the last time he’d visited her. I couldn’t possibly haul the man to the Glowing Sea by myself…

But I knew someone who could accompany us if Cait wouldn’t. But the likelihood of him wanting to be involved at all?

Slim to none.

The likelihood of him seducing Julien and treating him to orgies and all the chems his heart desired?

Same phrase I could use to describe the fucker: way too fucking high. It was worth a shot. At least he wouldn’t bitch about the radiation, and I could easily offer chems in exchange for his help.

I shoved one of the rags in my pocket. Gross, but this way he couldn’t deny it when confronted. I noticed something else as I tucked the rags back in the bin, a folded page from a notebook.

It would be completely out of character if I didn’t snoop. I unfolded it and felt my palms grow clammy. What I read was the most beautiful thing no one had ever said to me:

__S._ _

__I know you hate using your real name. I’m sorry. But I’ve never told you how much it’s like Christmas bells to hear. I wish like hell you understood what I meant, wish I could show you the kind of beauty the world used to channel. But what’s in a name?_ _

__Shortly after we met, you spun me your life story. I was astonished, honored that you’d have such confidence in me. I was a stranger, but you saw a light in me that I can’t possibly see in myself. You said those words to me one day, that I was a light in this world._ _

__Truth to be told, you were wrong. I wasn’t a light. Not yet. I was a candle, yet to be lit. You came in with a box of matches and got the job done, eventually. I know it wasn’t exactly obvious, it’s hard to play the role of a hopeful character when you’re numb on painkillers. I know I’ve seemed void of emotion for the past 8 years, or the entire time you’ve known me, really, but believe this: I’ve felt more in my time alone with you than I did in the 12 years I was with my wife. Between you and Cait, the two of you could rip my heart straight out of my chest and stomp on it, and I’d thank you. I know she’d never speak to me again and you’ll be repulsed if I go through with giving you this note, but, I can’t deny what I feel. No matter how ridiculous it might be. You are the light in this world, not me. I just wish you’d stop calling yourself a fraud at every given opportunity. You are perhaps the most genuine person I’ve met in this lawless wasteland. I’m growing more and more tired by the day, and you are one of the only things that stands between me and upping my dosage. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want this world. I want my home back. This place isn’t the same, after 8 years of being awake it still feels so surreal. I spend a lot of time wondering if I’m going fucking crazy because I try and talk myself out of believing anything I see. You keep me grounded, for what it’s worth, and by extension, safe. I wholeheartedly believe I would not be here if not for you. Believe what you want of this, but if it ever makes its way into your hands, just know that my heart is branded with your name, and not “Deacon.” If only you’d let me say it. Just once. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. In fact, I think it suits you perfectly. All that reading and you never once bothered to learn the origin of your name._ _

__Regardless of what you decide to do with your title, you know how I feel now, if you didn’t already notice. You are the air in my fucking lungs. By the time you read this, I could transcend dimensions. I just thought you’d appreciate knowing, so you’re never left wondering. Maybe she’s waiting on the flip side, but I’ll never forget you._ _

__J._ _

__

I didn’t want to let go of it. I clutched it and fought back actual fucking _tears_ _ _.__ He was actually preparing to die, and wanted to. What’s more, he had tried to confess his admiration and chickened out. I didn’t blame him.

I felt those bastard tears well at the corners of my eyes and stream down my face, quickly wiping them away so that the invisible people in the room wouldn’t witness it. God, Julien deserved the world. He wasn’t a bad man, not by any stretch of the imagination. He just…had a habit he couldn’t kick. Barely different from the nicotine addiction I shared with Des and every other person I’d met. I couldn’t ever judge him for it, I just wanted him fucking safe and healthy. In the darkest deepest pits of my soul I’d stashed away my own admiration, the only time I’d made anything obvious was when I’d tested him the previous night. We all knew exactly what the fuck was going on and none of us cared to admit it - why? Why couldn’t we all just join hands and confess that for 8 years we’d all wanted to conglomerate just see where it went.

We were all dumbasses.

I sniffled and gave the abandoned letter one last read before reluctantly tucking it back into the bin.

With that, I disappeared from HQ and ventured into the darkness, determined to just let the man say my name if it meant that much to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't sleep because I wanted another Deacon chapter so bad lol.  
> This was very very very loosely inspired by Frobisher and Sixsmith in the film adaption of Cloud Atlas. Very loosely. I'm not sure how much I can stress that but yeah.


	5. Why I havent updates in six months

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will delete this when I post a new chapter, which I'm working on. This is for anyone that was actually interested in my story, I apologize

Hey guys, its Adrian. If anyone has been following this fic, I'd like to let you in on why it hasnt been updated.

In the last 6 months, my life has been a mess. I made a huge mistake signing my one year old son over to my parents, who are now using him as a weapon. I'm not able to see him because they want to spite me over something my ex did, I had nothing to do with it. They have guardianship of him and I didnt know that signing the papers would make all of this happen.   
I'm a mess. I'm getting into therapy soon. I work a full time job with overtime and have little room for anything anymore. I am no longer a stay at home mom. My mental illness is kicking my ass and I miss the hell out of my little boy, who I am fighting for through the courts even though I can not afford a lawyer. I'm sorry. I will delete this when I update the fic. Its just... a lot. Im sorry. I havent abandoned this. I hope anyone reading this is well.

Love, Adrian


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